


Tequila Sunrise

by terrys_chocklit_orange



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (Possible) Infidelity, Forgiveness, Future Fic, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 16:56:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9451172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terrys_chocklit_orange/pseuds/terrys_chocklit_orange
Summary: Yuri wakes up after a drunken night with Victor with very few memories and a lot of regrets.





	

Yuri wakes slowly, like a man surfacing from deep water. Otabek is with him, his back pressed firmly into Yuri's chest. Without opening his eyes, Yuri nuzzles in, sucking little kisses into his friend's—his _boyfriend_ 's?—neck. 

Otabek smells like sweat and booze. _We must have had a real bender last night_ , Yuri thinks. His brain, fuzzy with the beginnings of what's probably going to be an epic headache, refuses to offer up any memories. _Too bad._ Yuri smiles at the thought of his straight-laced Otabek falling-down drunk. 

Yuri shifts, tightening his arm around Otabek's waist. He feels different, somehow. Narrower. It must just be the angle. Yuri's mouth finds Otabek's shoulder. Otabek sighs and laces his fingers, softer than usual, with Yuri's. He guides Yuri's hand down until it's cupping Otabek's morning erection. “Mm, Yuri,” Otabek murmurs, in a voice that's very unlike his own. 

Yuri's eyes fly open. “Fuck!” 

In a single movement, he jerks away and rolls off the mattress. He doesn't land on his feet, but in a crumpled heap on the carpet, as Victor sits up in bed, blinking. “Fuck,” Yuri repeats. He can't think of anything else to say. 

“What...” Victor frowns sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. “Where's Yuuri?” 

_Fucking Japan._ That much, Yuri knows for sure. He and Victor split their time between here and Hasetsu. Victor had recently come back to St. Petersburg, on his own for once, for a meeting with Yakov. He could easily have stayed at a hotel, but he'd weaselled his way into staying at Yuri's apartment...And there, the trail goes cold, although it doesn't take much of a detective to connect the dots. 

“Get up,” Yuri barks, because Victor doesn't get to sit there, blinking innocently, while Yuri's world crumbles. “Now.” He takes a pair of shorts from the floor and throws them at Victor. They're probably his. Right now, that's the least of Yuri's worries. He finds something for himself, a pair of briefs, track pants and a tiger T-shirt, and he pulls them on as quickly as humanly possible. His hair, which he's grown out as he's gotten older, is everywhere, including in his eyes. Yuri picks up an elastic from the mess on the dresser and yanks a fistful into an uneven ponytail, ignoring the pain that radiates through his scalp. 

“What happened?” Victor asks, in his stupid wide-eyed way. He fumbles with the shorts like he's never seen a pair before, and the headache which had been threatening hits Yuri hard. He winces. 

“Do I look like I fucking know, Victor?” It might be innocent. It might be fine. Maybe he and Victor just got drunk and passed out together. It wouldn't be the first time, if Yuri is honest, although usually Yuuri Katsuki is there either to kick Yuri out of the marital bed, or to drag Victor back to the right bedroom. _And we've never been naked before_ , Yuri's traitorous brain adds, unhelpfully. 

Victor pushes down the bedsheet, giving Yuri an eyeful of something he hopes never to see again. His skin crawls a little when he thinks, just moments ago, he brushed Victor's cock with his fingers. A few hours ago, he might have done more than that. “You don't remember anything?” 

“Do you?” 

Victor purses his lips. “You don't think we...” 

A memory appears in a context-free flash, like a Youtube clip glimpsed on a neighbour's phone on the train. Yuri can't even be sure it is something that really happened, but it's there. Him, shirtless, straddling Victor's lap, although Yuri is now the taller and the heavier of the two. Victor throwing his head back, drinking vodka directly from the bottle while his free hand slides beneath the waistband of Yuri's briefs. 

“Fuck.” 

Tears spring to Victor's eyes. “No. It can't be. This is impossible.” 

“I'm not exactly thrilled about the idea either, thanks.” 

“I have to tell Yuuri.” Victor starts hunting around, presumably for his phone. 

Yuri can't have that. “No, you don't.” 

“There's no choice. I've dishonoured him. I've ruined everything we have together. I've...”

“Shut up.” Irritation seeps into the wave of dread consuming Yuri. “This isn't just about you, jackass. We both...” He squeezes his eyes shut, as if that will magically send them back a day. “We both fucked up, all right?” 

“It's hardly the same for you. I pledged myself to my darling Yuuri. I have to throw myself at his mercy, and beg his forgiveness. If you had a lover...”

“I do.” 

Even now, Victor's love for gossip is stronger than anything. He's unbelievable. His eyebrows go up, and he wipes his eyes. “Who?” 

“It doesn't matter.” This thing between Yuri and Otabek Altin is new. They've been friends for years, since Yuri was fifteen, but it's only lately they've begun to explore other possibilities. “But we have to keep quiet, Victor.”

“That's not the answer. In a relationship, you must have complete honesty.”

“No.” Yuri's not speaking from a place of experience, but he knows exactly how he would feel if he learned Otabek might have accidentally slept with someone else. Especially someone like fucking Victor. “How do you think Kat---” Yuri stops himself. “How do you think Yuuri's going to feel about this?”

The tears come back. “He will be devastated.” 

“So telling him would be fucking selfish. What he doesn't know won't hurt him.” _The same goes for Otabek, right?_

“Yuri...”

Suddenly, Yuri can't take any more of this. “I'm going for a run,” he tells Victor, turning away. “When I get back, don't be here.” 

It's freezing, of course, and wet. The kind of icy, painful rain that characterises early spring in St. Petersburg pours from the sky. Yuri didn't stop to pull on a coat, so he shivers his way along his usual route, his running shoes splashing into puddles and soaking his socks. His head is pounding and he's fairly sure he's going to throw up, but he doesn't stop. 

He should have seen it coming. A few years ago, Yuri thinks, he would have. When Yuri was fifteen, a ball of hormones and rage, he'd been deeply in love with Victor. An immature, angry, teenage version of love, but it was real to him. And it was very real when Victor rejected him in the most thorough way possible, first by reneging on his promise to coach Yuri, then by falling publicly in love with Katsudon. The only way it could have been worse was if Victor had exchanged matching "good luck" rings with J.J. fucking Leroy. 

But Yuri got over it, eventually. He realised fairly early that he didn't actually hate Yuuri Katsuki. Katsuki was a good skater, maybe even a great one, although he had a pathetic lack of self-esteem, and he and Victor were good together. They worked. Slowly, Yuri grew up, his crush evaporated, and he became real friends with both of them. 

Or so he thought. Now, Yuri doesn't know what to think. _Who started it?_ He wonders. He can picture his mouth on Victor's, he finds. He can taste alcohol on Victor's tongue and feel Victor's hands tangling roughly in his hair, but he can't pinpoint how they got there. He's not sure he wants to. 

Yuri stays away a long time, until he's soaked and shivering like a wet cat. Nerves twist his stomach as he squelches up the stairs to his apartment. He's petrified that, despite his firm order, Victor might still be there, sobbing into the phone as he begs Katsudon's forgiveness. The door is unlocked, which is good since Yuri realises at that same moment he left without his keys. 

Stepping inside, Yuri hears a chair scrape against the kitchen floor. He pulls off his sodden shoes, squares his shoulders, and goes to confront Victor. Instead, he finds Otabek, sitting at the table with a pot of tea steaming in front of him. Half a dozen empty liquor bottles are lined up on the counter, neat and organised in a way that's very Otabek. Yuri doesn't look at them. 

“Hello.” Otabek smiles, like this is a regular occurrence. “I thought I'd stop by with some breakfast.” Looking down, Yuri sees a plate of rolls beside the teapot. “Victor told me you were out. I asked him to stay, but it seems he was in a hurry to make his flight.” 

“Okay,” Yuri says. Victor's flight isn't for another nine hours. “Did he...” Otabek doesn't look furious, or devastated, or even annoyed. “Did he say anything else?” 

“No. Was he supposed to?” Yuri shakes his head. “You look frozen." Otabek frowns. He stands and comes around the table, stopping in front of Yuri. “Why don't you get in the shower, Yura?”

It's the nickname that undoes him. It breaks the dam, and tears roll down Yuri's face. He turns away, trying to hide them, but it's too late. “What's wrong?” Without hesitating, he pulls Yuri into a hug, soaking his own clothes in the process. _I don't deserve him_ , Yuri thinks, miserably.

“We had sex.” 

“Yes. We did.” Otabek's voice is a little uncertain. “If you think that was a mistake...”

“I mean, me and Victor. Maybe,” Yuri adds, although that little qualifier does nothing to ease the pain in his stomach. “We were drunk.” Otabek doesn't say anything. He doesn't step away, which Yuri almost hysterically thinks might be a good thing, but he doesn't speak, either. “I'm sorry,” Yuri says, just to fill the silence, and he realizes he was right. Just like he told Victor, admitting to this was a really stupid thing to do, because now Yuri feels worse than ever, and Otabek still isn't talking. 

Yuri has nothing more to say, so they stand there in silence, until finally Otabek asks, “Why?”

“We were drunk. Really, really drunk. That's the only reason, I swear...”

“I mean, why are you sorry?” 

Yuri pulls away, just far enough to see Otabek's face. He looks the same. His dark eyes are kind, as usual, and as usual, they act as some sort of truth serum. Yuri can't lie to him. “Because Victor cheated on Katsudon, and I was a part of that.” That feels pretty shitty, not only because they're his friends, but because they're Victor and Katsudon. The embodiment of _eros_ and _agape_. 

“Do you think Katsuki will forgive him?” 

“Yes.” Yuri doesn't doubt it. What Victor and Katsudon have is special, and Katsudon's not so dumb that he doesn't know it. He wouldn't throw it away over something so stupid as what happened—maybe—between Yuri and Victor. 

“So why feel bad?” 

Guilt morphs into annoyance, like it so often does with Yuri. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Evidently.” 

“I'm sorry I cheated on you, okay?” It sounds angrier than it should. Yuri tries again. “I really am. I don't know why it happened.” 

“But it won't happen again.”

“No fucking way.” He won't drink another drop in Victor's presence, ever. And, just to be safe, he's not going to be letting him sleep over, either, at least not without Katsudon around. 

“So for me, there's no problem.” 

Yuri pushes him away. “Fuck, Beka! How can you be so...” Yuri isn't sure how to finish the sentence. Understanding? Reasonable? Saintly?

“Because I love you,” Otabek replies, like it's the easiest thing in the world. “And I trust you, and I would rather be with you than fight with you.” That makes Yuri want to cry all over again. “But now,” Otabek goes on, “I really think you should get in the shower, and stop dripping all over your kitchen floor.” 

Yuri looks down and sees a puddle growing at his feet. “Right.” 

“Perhaps I could join you?” Otabek doesn't smile much, but when he does, it's a thing of such beauty, Yuri has trouble looking away. Today, he doesn't even bother trying. Instead, he buries his face in Otabek's broad shoulder. 

“I love you, too,” he says. It's muffled by Otabek's shirt, but Otabek doesn't ask him to repeat it. Instead, he kisses the top of Yuri's head and holds him tightly, until Yuri can feel the warmth of it seep through to his bones. 

***

Yuri wakes up quickly, jolted into wakefulness by the sound of his phone. He's not alone. Beside him, Otabek stirs. It really is Otabek. Yuri makes sure to peer at his handsome, sleepy face. “Go back to sleep,” Yuri tells him, as he reaches down for the phone. 

There's a new text from Katsudon. Yuri takes a deep breath and presses his body into the comfortable solidity of Otabek's before he reads it. _Victor told me what happened._ Yuri can't say he's surprised. 

_Sorry_ , he types back, although it seems even less adequate with Katsudon than it did with Otabek. 

_He's joining danshukai._ Yuri pauses to Google it. A “self-help organisation for alcoholics.” That sounds appropriately dramatic for Victor. _So, thank you._ If it was anyone else, Yuri would interpret that as sarcasm, but he doesn't think Katsudon's ever been sarcastic in his life. _We'll see you at Four Continents, Yurio_ , Katsudon adds.

 _See you there._ Yuri can't really complain about the nickname. Not right now. He puts the phone back and burrows in beside Otabek. 

“You know,” Otabek says. Yuri starts. He hadn't realised he was awake. “I guess the easiest way to keep other men out of your bed would be to stay here myself.” 

Yuri grins. “You think so?”

“It's worth a shot.” Otabek turns over, wrapping Yuri in his long arms. He presses a kiss to the back of Yuri's head, then another to his neck. “What do you think?”

“I think I can live with that.” _I can live with it forever_ , Yuri thinks, but he doesn't say it. That's a cheesy romantic statement worthy of Victor and Katsudon, and he and Otabek definitely aren't like that. 

Not yet, anyway. But they have all the time in the world to get there.


End file.
